


Red and Raw

by sakura_rinxx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood, Dark Lydia, F/F, Self Harm, harm on others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:50:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakura_rinxx/pseuds/sakura_rinxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plato was wrong; love wasn’t a mental disease, it was the perfect murder. Your heart is taken and then your lover is free to do what they wish with it. Carve their name on it with a blunt blade over and over again until your heart bleeds dry. Or leave it on the side of a forgotten road in the middle of nowhere to beat until its last feeble thumps.</p><p>Lydia’s heart had Allison carved onto it. In size 28 font and a depth of 4 inches, the name Allison left no space for anyone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red and Raw

     The sound of the sheets of rain hitting the window pane in crescendos and decrescendos reminded Lydia of the sound of broken glass hitting metal. She couldn’t quite remember where she had heard such a sound or when but that didn’t surprise Lydia; she had irreverently forgotten too much in the process of letting go of the actual memories that were too painful for her to carry around within her whimsy heart. 

How nice it must be _,_ thought Lydia, to be a raindrop. No matter how far they were scattered or how harsh their journey down to earth was, at least they could find solace in knowing that the sun would always take them back.   

Two harsh raps on the door interrupted Lydia’s thoughts. A moment later and the door opened to flood the dark room with light. 

“Lydia” whispered Allison.   

Lydia didn’t turn her back, instead allowing the rain’s performance to answer for her.   

“ **Lydia**.” This time her name was interwoven with a note of plea and desperation. 

The copper haired girl knew it was a call for her to turn around and acknowledge Allison. She knew what Allison wanted from her; reassurance and warmth to absolve the tension that hung between them after _That Day_. But that sort of warmth was from a different time, a time when rain didn’t remind Lydia of broken glass and shadows didn’t feel so comforting. 

But Lydia turned around because her beloved Allison had come so far to meet her. _Her_ Allison had come to see _her_. Lydia thought of herself as a mosaic, a work of art, made up of stained pieces of glass. She rearranged the pieces, hiding the ones that had lost its color, were cracked or dull, behind the very few that still reflected light.  Lydia pasted on her signature smirk that now felt too heavy on her face and relaxed her tense body. She took care of everything to make sure she looked the appearance of the mixture of half bored and snarky that people associated with her. The only thing she couldn’t do was get her eyes to light up. That light came from deep within Lydia, but Lydia was just a hollow shell now, holding nothing but desolation and heartache. 

“With the full moon tonight, and Scott gone, of course you’re here. If only Scott **knew** , like **I** know, how you’re really a serpent underneath that disguise of a flower, **Allison**. 

Each word were like pins that had been dipped into poison; oozing with malice and contempt. Slowly the poisonous words worked its way through Allison’s veins, blood pumping and pushing it straight to her heart.  

Allison flinched, hurt clearly etched across her angelic face. 

Good, Lydia thought. I want to cause you pain. 

Because Lydia understood the truth now. Plato was wrong; love wasn’t a mental disease, it was the perfect murder. You’re heart is taken and then your lover is free to do what they wish with it. Carve their name on it with a blunt blade over and over again until your heart bleeds dry. Or leave it on the side of a forgotten road in the middle of nowhere to beat until its last feeble thumps. All  damage done without leaving anyone else the wiser. 

Lydia’s heart had Allison carved onto it. In size 28 font and a depth of 4 inches, the name _Allison_ , left no space for anyone else. 

Allison moved to Lydia’s bed, sitting down with her head bowed and occupying as little space as possible. It was strange of her to behave like this, so small and meek as if she was threading on string that might snap at any given minute. 

To Lydia, the image of Allison so small and almost broken only added to her dark contentment. She wanted this, wanted to break Allison just as she was broken. She wanted to rip open the huntresses’ chest, pull out her still beating heart and cut it open sliver by sliver while the dark haired beauty watched. 

But Lydia didn’t have a knife at her disposal; all she had were her words. 

“Do you love me Allison” murmured Lydia. 

The rustling of leaves added to the beat of the rain that was now pounding furiously against the window pane. 

“You know Scott needs me”. 

“Someone always needs you more than me.” 

As the ticking of the clock and the music of the world outside the four walls harmonized, Lydia moved to sit beside Allison, one hand cupping her chin so she was staring straight into her amber eyes, the other stroking the length of her face. Even though she knew Allison inch by inch, Lydia still marvelled at the perfection that she was. 

Charcoal eyes that were reminiscent of a doe were framed by thick, heavy lashes that formed shadowed crescents on Allison’s pale, blemish free skin. Further down, cheeks that could cut skin jutted out, accentuated even more by her quarter sized dimples. Lastly, what were now being bitten by a lonesome tooth, were lips that usually were in the shape of a cupid’s bow, soft and light pink. 

For Allison it was unsettling to be so close to Lydia. She thought back to when she would find herself lost in what used to be green eyes that were the color of dew covered grass. Now she just found herself avoiding what had become eyes so muddled and vacant.    

Today it was worse. Each touch, each linger, each hot whisper that brushed Allison’s cheeks felt foreign and vulgar. There was something different with Lydia tonight. She seemed unhinged, shattered and decaying. The whole room wafted with the stench of decay. 

In Lydia, something was slowly beginning to crumble. The seams that she had tirelessly stitched back together after Allison had torn them apart were coming undone. She began to place soft kisses onto Allison’s face, from her cheek bones to her jaw, down to her neck and then up to the soft flesh behind her ears. Allison stood very still the whole time with her breath caught in her throat. 

“I may not need you, but I want you. Can you do that for me Allison, just tonight I promise. This will be our final goodbye”. 

“I can’t…Scott” 

“Scott has you forever Allison. Can I just have you for tonight? You miss me too, that’s why you’re here tonight aren’t you”. 

  To most people, Allison was a picture of calm and control; a book bound shut with a lock and no key. Lydia however was not most people. She had melted off the lock and read Allison from start to finish, caressing each page and word with great care. She knew the words and sentences that formed Allison, from the quiver to her neck when she was angry, to the gentle increases in blinks when she was coming to terms with something.  All the nook and crannies Allison had in her soul; Lydia had made it her duty to discover. So as the multitude of emotions zipped through each beat of the huntresses’ cold, cold heart, Lydia was able to discern them all just by looking at her eyes. 

_Beat. Anger. Beat._

_Beat. Fear. Beat._

_Beat. Torn. Beat._

_Beat. Longing. Beat._

_Beat. Decision. Beat._

“Only for tonight” the taller girl said in a hush, as the door that had kept her feelings for the shorter girl at bay for so long was broken down. 

   Lydia’s once manicured nails, now bitten to the raw, began to undo the buttons on Allison’s shirt, as her head found its place against the crook of Allison neck, teeth nipping at the pale flesh. Meanwhile, Allison’s fingers entangled themselves within the limp, dry copper strands on Lydia’s head, and guided her face to map across the expanse between her neck to her temple.    

It was going too slow, far too slow for Lydia. There was an urgency to the way she wanted Allison, _needed_ Allison. It was as if she had been trapped under ice for far too long, and she had finally found the sun.  She pushed the dark haired beauty onto the sheets, allowing herself to straddle the lithe girl. Her fingers ripped apart buttons in her haste as she could feel the usual fire she once had light up within herself. It felt like an eternity had passed since she had felt so alive, but that’s exactly what Allison did to her. She lit the fire in Lydia and let her burn.   

“You’re hurting me Lydia” winched Allison as a jagged finger nail dragged sharply against her ivory skin. 

As the rain and rustling came to a stop and as the crimson liquid bloomed against the usual white of Allison’s flesh, Lydia became transfixed, awed at how the ivory of the skin was tainted and marred by the red. She had usually seen such a masterpiece on her own skin, but on Allison, the beauty was amplified to a greater extent. The inky red against the canvas of Allison’s skin held such a sense of aphotic, morbid artistry that the fact that Lydia was the one to create such art only acted as fuel to her already raging fire.    

Allison pushed back the copper wisps that obscured Lydia’s hypnotized eyes and gently nudged the side of her sallow cheek. This managed to pull the red head from her reverie. 

“I want to carve myself onto you Allison.” 

As the words left Lydia’s cracked lips, the hairs on Allison’s arms stood at an end, and the beating of her heart thumped harder and faster than before. They were all the signs that she as a huntress relied on to indicate danger. Danger instinctually brought out a sense of fear within Allison, but the fact that Lydia was the one who posed the danger, shook Allison to her bones. 

“Shh don’t look so scared Allison. Everything is all right” murmured Lydia as she stroked the side of Allison’s face.  “Look, you carved yourself on.” 

  With wild eyes, the red head rushed to pull upon the long sleeve of her shirt. As the sleeve hitched farther and farther up, harsh, jagged lines spindled on her skin emerged. As the base of her arm became completely uncovered, the word _Allison_ was formed, each letter broken into Lydia’s skin, marred red and raw against the pale canvas.   

A wave of nausea washed over Allison as she gagged into the palm of her hand. She looked between Lydia’s wild eyes to the raw red on her arm; torn between feelings of compassion and disgust. This was not Lydia; this couldn’t be the Lydia she loved.  

“You carved yourself in my heart but I couldn’t see you there, so I carved you on my arm where I could. Let me carve myself onto you too Allison.” 

“What happened to you” breathed Allison as she pushed away from Lydia towards the headboard. She needed distance from her, as much distance as possible or else Allison knew she was going to fall apart. 

Lydia crooked her neck as the light of the moon illuminated part of her face and the shadows of the room darkened the other. “You are what happened to me.” 

Lydia, Allison and Silence filled the depths of the room. 

“I’m leaving” the taller girl said as she got up. As Allison reached for the door, another occupant joined them. Mirthless Laughter. 

She bubbled out of Lydia, exploding from where She had been trapped within the dark chasms of Lydia’s soul, first quietly, then louder, and louder until She erupted through her skin, through her every pore. 

 “Leaving me again aren’t you Allison. Running back into the arms of Scott; your prince.” The shadow splayed against the wall doubled over as the Mirthless Laughter reached her highest peak. 

Then very slowly, chords of laughter turned into hiccups, which in turn turned to ragged sobs.  “Don’t leave me Allison. Not again.” She said with silvery tears streaming down her cheeks, body trembling, and mouth open in a silent plea. 

Guilt and shame were intermingled in Allison’s amber eyes. She eyed the door from across the room; escape was so close. She could walk out that door, and be free from the shackles that bound her to Lydia, from the burden of feeling her wrath and pain. All she had to do to was get away from the darkness of the room and into the light. 

But she had created this. She had turned Lydia into this...this distortion of herself. Allison had always been noble; a knight in shining armour who was always the first to chase after the monster. But Lydia was no monster...Lydia was her love, and she needed Allison.    

She walked back to Lydia and laid her cool forehead against Lydia’s flush one. As she kissed away at the salty tears that were stained against the shorter girl’s cheeks, Allison whispered “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Let me etch myself onto you Allison,” Lydia hiccupped.  “Please. That way I know you’ll remember me always, just like I’ll always remember you. " 

“But Scott will see” pleaded Allison. 

“I won’t do cut deep, that way in a week or two it’ll fade away almost completely; unidentifiable to Scott. You’ll always remember though.” 

Allison nodded as guilt overcame sense. “Where” she mouthed, voice gone hoarse from a mixture of fear and anxiousness. 

“Across your heart, just like your name on mine.” Lydia jumped out of the bed; enveloped by the shadows of the room as she ran across it. She came back with a small, shiny, metal object. A razor. 

“Will it hurt?” 

“The pain is the best part.” 

As Silence took control over the room once again, Lydia dipped the razor onto the skin on Allison’s left side, right above the curve of the huntress’ crescent shaped breasts. The tip of the L broke through Allison’s flesh, and even though she was no stranger to pain, Allison still clenched hard at the bed sheets and at Lydia’s arm.   

Lydia was not being soft. Each tear was deliberately slow, deliberately harsh, and deliberately painful. She paid no attention to the writhing mass that was Allison, nor to the skin on her arm breaking from where Allison was clutching onto in pain. She continued: L-Y-D-I-A, until all her letters that formed her blazed red across Allison’s skin.  Then she licked at the scarlet drops into her mouth to taste the familiar wetness and salt. To taste Allison inside and out. 

“You taste just like I’d imagine. Sweet and tart. A mixture of the flower and serpent you are. ” 

Allison lay still, watching Lydia’s cracked lips form word after word but not hearing any of it. All she heard was rushing blood and all she saw was the decayed reflection of someone she loved. As the initial pain from the cuts turned to dull throbs of pleasure, Allison understood that from this moment on, she would be forever changed. The razor hadn’t only carved upon her unblemished skin, but also upon her very soul. What was most harrowing was that Allison finally accepted that she deserved this. Before it had been about responsibility, now it was the penance she had to pay. Maybe she was just as broken as Lydia for thinking so, but she no longer had the strength to fight it. She would allow herself to be burned by Lydia’s fire, allow herself to become the muse to Lydia’s dark designs.   

Her usual nerve of steels had long ago dissipated with her sense of logic, so with trembling hands, she placed her calloused fingers on Lydia’s face. 

“Let me taste it” she whispered as she moved her lips towards Lydia’s blood tainted ones. Her coarse tongue skirted across the bottom one, taking in the taste of salt and tart that at some time before had been coursing through her. 

 _It’s just berries. Tastes just like bitter berries._  

Allison moved her lips to the edge of Lydia’s mouth to clean up the scarlet liquid that had spilled over, as Lydia began to unclasp the buttons on her pants. Slowly, all cloth that stood in their way was  shoved somewhere in the abyss of the room, until they were  both  pressed skin to skin; Allison pressed hard against the mattress from where Lydia was straddling her. 

Lydia swirled her tainted tongue against the rim of Allison’s nipples, sucking and nipping just hard enough that it barely crossed the tiny line that divided pain from pleasure. Allison steadied herself from the waves of sensation already coursing within her by wringing her fingers in Lydia’s matt, copper strands. Her other hand quickly went to work slipping into Lydia and teasing at her clit. 

“Come closer” Allison managed to gasp. 

Lydia knew what she was insinuating, tonight held a familiarity from the night that Allison had initially abandoned Lydia. She moved from her position of straddling Allison’s hips to straddling her waiting mouth, allowing the taller girl full access to lap at the heady scent and juices already overflowing from within her. 

With one hand at Lydia’s waist and the other cupped onto at her breast, Allison’s tongue twisted and slithered inside of Lydia, hitting her sweet spot over and over again and thus prompting Lydia to buck harder and faster. It relieved Allison knowing that even though the essence of Lydia had become something so foreign to her, being able to please Lydia’s body was still all too familiar.   

Allison couldn’t see each expression of pleasure and bliss splayed on Lydia’s face, but the mere thought of Lydia riding her out and the mere feel of Lydia’s fingernails digging into her scalp was enough for her the ice around her frigid heart to thaw. 

The room came alive as sounds of pleasure resounded within the confines of the four walls. Each tick of the clock followed with a gasp or moan. As Lydia’s thighs began to clench around Allison’s face, Allison stopped to look up at the passion ravaged and flushed red head.    

“Together.” 

They aligned themselves so that Lydia’s coarse hairs brushed against the bristles of Allison’s dark ones and their juices flowed between them. Then they moved. Clit against clit as both girls moved their hips in pace with one another. First precise and in synch, then sloppier and sloppier as they both reached their climax. 

Perhaps it was the rain that sounded like glass, the shadows that had become comfortable or the sense of déjà vu from the other night that overwhelmed them, but as the two girls rocked against the headboard, silent tears fell from their eyes. This act of being joined together, of finding passion and solace in one another held a great tone of finality this time. This was, they both knew, their encore.  So as the bruised flesh on Allison’s chest chaffed against Lydia’s,  whose tattooed arm hung around Allison’s ribs, the two girls held onto each other just a bit tighter. With one final thrust of their hips, orgasm overcame them. The last thing Lydia saw before her vision was consumed of stark white was her name etched across the taller girl’s chest.  

Hours later, the two girls were lying side by side. Allison had her arm wrapped around Lydia and her breasts pressed against the red head’s back. The smell of decay that had permeated the room before was now  overcome by  the scent of sex and salt. 

The shorter girl was sleeping now, chest falling in soft, even breaths, while Allison exchanged sleep in order to trace the contours of Lydia’s face. The red head was so beautiful sleeping, a perfect illusion of innocence and peace. It was such a perfect illusion that Allison could almost look past the dark circles under Lydia’s eyes, the coarse, matt hair, sallow skin and cracked bitten lips that pieced her together. _Almost._

  The buzz of her phone displaced Allison’s attention away from the curve of Lydia’s jaw.    

“It’s Scott. He’s going over to my house” she whispered to Silence. 

Allison carefully unwound herself from Lydia and went about the dark of the room to gather her clothes. As her fingers grasped onto the doorknob, Allison turned around one last time. 

“Would you believe me if I said I loved you” her voice cracked. 

The soft breathing remained uninterrupted. 

As Allison’s footsteps faded farther and farther away from the four walls that had become witnesses to her and Lydia’s dark display of love that night, Lydia whispered back for only the moon to hear. 

 “I believe you. After everything we’ve been through, I believe you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
